


why wait for the best when i could have you?

by brosephine-grant (dollinkdollink)



Category: Succession (TV 2018)
Genre: F/M, and the rest of the Roy clan, except Gerri has to fake date Connor instead of Roman, fake dating trope
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:33:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25815853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dollinkdollink/pseuds/brosephine-grant
Summary: The thought that it would be Conner sharing a bed with her first, holding her hand at the wedding, dancing with her at the reception, was a humiliation too real to be anything but painful.
Relationships: Gerri Kellman/Roman "Romulus" Roy
Comments: 18
Kudos: 60





	1. Chapter 1

Another day, another family gathering around Logan Roy’s dinner table to discuss their strategy regarding a possible merger.

The Stone family owned “Stone Kids Inc.”, a children’s media company consisting of a small animation studio, a cable television station, and book and comic publishing. If acquired, it would add a healthy injection of already popular children’s IPs to the Adventure Parks, as well as a potential streaming service down the line.

Alec Stone had three adult children, but each had chosen to follow their own path, and with his health now fading, the old man was looking to sell his small empire to another family run company.

The challenge, of course, would be convincing Alec Stone that the Roys were the happy family he was looking for.

Kendall was still out there drumming up support against his father, but the other three Roy children were present, along with Marcia, Tom, Greg, and Gerri. Strict seating arrangements had been made by his father, and Roman found himself seated across the table from Gerri, his usual place beside her filled instead by Conner.

The usual vague tension that accompanied every Roy family dinner had been replaced by a very specific tension this time, one that felt to Roman like the calm before a storm. From his place at the head of the table, Logan clapped his hands together to quiet the murmuring of stilted conversation and the clang of forks on plates.

“Right. Now that everyone’s got a little food in their stomachs, I have a few things I want to say about tomorrow’s trip. As you know, this isn’t a formal business trip. Stone thinks his daughter’s wedding will be a good time for our two families to meet, sort of a “meet the parents” dinner before we can get down to fucking. He made it very clear that this will be family-only, no suits.”

Gerri looked around the table, and then back to Logan. “That would make me the odd one out, then.”

Logan held up a finger to silence her, and continued, “he thinks he’s clever, trying to get me away from any lawyers or advisers so he can trick me into agreeing to a bad deal, but there’s no way I’m going out there with my whole ass hanging out with no one to cover it. Gerri will be coming along with us, as Conner’s partner.”

Roman choked on his bread, Conner knocked over a glass of wine, and Gerri - normally so calm and collected in any crisis, could only manage to sputter out a shocked “What?”.

“I’m not asking you to blow him in the middle of the ceremony, Gerri, it’s just for show. We all have to do our part to play happy family until this weekend is over, and then we can get back to hammering out this deal.”

“Why Conner though?” Roman jumped in without thinking, “Why not-” Gerri shot him a dangerous look across the table, and he finished, “Why not just bring her along as Shiv’s godmother?”

“Sure, and then I’ll put a wig on Karl and tell them he’s my second cousin.” Logan gave Roman his very special _you’re a moron_ glare, and Roman could feel himself shrinking down in his seat against his will.

Gerri cleared her throat, took a small sip of wine, and straightened the napkin in her lap. “We’ll go over the details beforehand?” she asked, avoiding Roman’s kicked puppy gaze.

“Of course,” Logan agreed, “I don’t trust you all to keep your stories straight without my help.”

“What about Willa?” Conner asked, but the conversation had moved on without him.

***

Roman hadn’t done any packing yet, but later that night he found himself in Gerri’s home instead of his own.

She’d opened the door in a silky floral robe, her hair slightly damp from the shower, and Roman couldn’t help but wonder if Conner would be seeing her like this when they shared a room at the Stone estate.

“I’ve got a lot to do, Roman,” she said with a tired sigh, but her voice was soft and she let him in anyway. He followed her into her bedroom, where various clothes and accessories were spilled out over the bed. He’d never been allowed in her room before, but hands that would have normally reached out to explore every surface were clenched by his sides instead.

“I can’t believe you’re okay with this.”

She shrugged, removing a blouse from its hanger. “This would be a huge deal for us. We need something big in parks to distract from cruises. If I have to hold your brother’s hand a little to help get it done, I’m willing to make that sacrifice.”

“Why does it have to be Conner?”

“Because we’re closest in age, Roman. No one is going to believe that I’m dating Logan Roy’s 35-year-old son.”

“But you… we…” but he didn’t have a word for what they were, what they were doing, so he shut his mouth and started playing with a string of pearls instead.

When he looked up, Gerri was watching him carefully. “Are you jealous, Roman?”

“No,” he scoffed immediately, unbelievably. He’d broken things off with Tabitha recently, and he had thought that once things at the company had calmed down a little, he and Gerri could try adding a few more bullet points to their unspoken agreement. The thought that it would be Conner sharing a bed with her first, holding her hand at the wedding, dancing with her at the reception, was a humiliation too real to be anything but painful.

“I promise you, Rome, if I decide to fuck a Roy, you’ll be the first I offer myself to.”

“Fuck you,” he shot back, but he didn’t really mean it.

“It’s late. You should get home and make sure you’re packed.” She went back to her folding, and Roman accepted her dismissal.

It wasn’t until he was in the car on his way home that he realized his fingers were still fiddling with her pearls.

***

The Stone estate reminded him of the gloomy, frigid castles his mother had dragged them to as children, and the last shred of hope that he’d enjoy any part of this weekend blew away with the biting wind as they exited the helicopters. He saw Conner offer Gerri his arm as her heels sank into the rain drenched soil, and Roman felt nauseous watching her take it.

The Stone welcome party was waiting for them. Alec Stone appeared to be a little older than Logan, but from his father’s description Roman had been expecting a frail man on death’s door. Alec had rod straight posture and a sturdy build, and looked like he could take Roman in a fight any day.

His children and their partners stood beside him. Charles, the oldest, was about Roman’s age, accompanied by his wife Claire. Elise, the bride-to-be, was the same age as Shiv, and her fiance Daniel seemed like even more of a blowhard than Tom. Mark, the youngest, seemed closer to Greg in age, with the same tall lanky build, and his cousin’s inclusion on the trip suddenly made more sense.

“Welcome, Roys!” Alec’s voice boomed loud and clear, and far too cheerfully for nine o’clock in the morning.

“Thank you, Alec”, Logan responded, accepting his firm handshake. “Thank you for your hospitality during this important time for your family.”

“Our pleasure. The other guests won’t arrive until tomorrow morning, so we’ll have plenty of time for everyone to get acquainted tonight at dinner.” His eyes scanned the Roy party and fell on Gerri with a look of surprise. “I’m sorry, when you said you would be bringing an extra family member, I didn’t realize you meant your General Counsel.”

Conner jumped in quickly, wrapping his arm around Gerri and squeezing her hip possessively. “I just couldn’t imagine witnessing such a beautiful expression of devotion and commitment without the love of my life by my side.”

Roman thought it might be possible that his time with Willa had made Conner an even worse actor.

“Gerri here is also my son’s life partner,” Logan informed him, “I hope that won’t be a problem.”

“No… no, of course not,” Alec responded, but his cheerful smile had disappeared. “Well, we’ve got a breakfast buffet laid out if you all are hungry. I know flying always makes me famished.”

***

Breakfast was followed by a small tour, and then the Roy family was left alone to unpack in their rooms. Roman quickly retrieved the object he had tucked in with his luggage, and crossed his fingers as he made his way down the long hall to the room Conner and Gerri had been assigned to.

Luck was on his side, and Gerri was the one to answer his knock.

“What do you want, Roman?” she hissed, and Roman held up her pearl necklace.

“I accidentally took this last night, and I wanted to make sure it got back to you.” She narrowed her eyes, unconvinced.

“Who is it?” Conner called from deeper in the room.

“It’s Roman,” Gerri answered, “He found something I dropped at breakfast.” She started to close the door, and Roman’s hand darted out to grab hers.

“Meet me in my room later tonight,” he whispered. “Just for a drink.”

“Roman…”

“It doesn’t matter what time. Conner’s a dipshit, he’ll believe anything you tell him.”

"Goodbye, Roman.”

***

Dinner with the Stone family, as it turned out, was boring enough to make Roman almost long for the pretentious antagonism of the Pierce’s.

Amost.

Once the Stone children had finished their exhausting explanation of their various passions and professions, Elise Stone turned the conversation to Gerri and Connor.

“So,” she asked, with a gratingly peppy voice, “how long have you two been an item?”

“Two exhilaratingly blissful years,” Connor answered, petting Gerri’s hair as if she were a dog.

“I never thought I’d feel so alive again after my husband died”, Gerri added with a more practiced sweetness, “Falling in love after knowing each other all these years was such a wonderful surprise.”

Across the table, Roman subtly gagged himself with his spoon, and Gerri kicked his shin.

“You remind me so much of my late wife and I,” Alec Stone spoke up with a wistful voice. “We were much younger when we married, of course, but we had gone to high school and college together and never thought much of each other. In fact, she had gotten the impression that I was lazy and frivolous, and had written me off. Then one day we started volunteering with the same organization, and after spending some time together we realized how much we liked each other after all.”

Roman could have sworn he saw Gerri smile, a genuine smile, and meet his eyes for just a moment.

“That’s a lovely story,” Marcia said.

“See!” Logan added. “We’re already finding so much in common!”

***

The text came at one in the morning. _Is it smaller than mine?_ it said, and then an eggplant emoji quickly followed.

_I’ll let you know when I’m done with it_ , Gerri typed out in response, propped up in bed next to a snoring Connor, a pile of throw pillows and towels the size and shape of a grown man dividing the mattress into two clear zones. She had been trying to read after giving up on sleep, but her thoughts had wandered, wondering how long it would be until the inevitable text from Roman.

_Make sure you’re wearing your Life Alert in case he falls asleep on you and crushes you._

_What makes you think he’s on top?_

Her illuminated screen showed three dots for a long moment, and then a single fire emoji appeared.

_You’re disgusting_ , she responded, a fond smile on her face.

_When are you coming over???_

She thought about it, had been thinking about it all night, calculating the distance between their rooms and the odds of running into someone else in the process. She couldn’t explain why she allowed this thing with Roman to continue, only that it was fun, and kind of thrilling, and definitely more enjoyable than spending a sleepless night listening to Connor’s snoring.

She also knew that with this deal on the line, she’d be risking more than usual.

_Not tonight_ , she answered finally. _Maybe tomorrow_.

Two emojis then, another eggplant and some prayer hands.

Well, maybe a little risk would be okay.

She slipped carefully out of bed and snuck into the bathroom, closing the door quietly behind her. Her thumb hovered over the call button for a moment, listening for Connor’s continued snoring, before hitting it.

“I knew you couldn’t resist me,” came Roman’s voice on the other end of the line, sounding more tired than she had expected.

“Spoiled brat,” she whispered, and she heard the familiar rustle of his frenzied movements. “You’re just an arrogant child who thinks his pathetic little dick is more important than a multi-billion dollar company. All you’re capable of running is your filthy mouth, and embarrassing all of us. Aren’t you ashamed of yourself?”

“Yesss…” he answered through gritted teeth. She could picture him so clearly in her head. Little by little, she’d been letting some of the walls come down between them, first the literal ones, like the bathroom door that used to separate them, and the figurative ones, like the barrier that used to keep her from standing close enough to him that she could feel his hot panting breath on her face and reach out to tug and stroke his mussed hair alternatively. It felt strange to be back where they started, just two disembodied voices forming a connection across the darkness of night.

“Hurry up,” she ordered, not wanting it to end but knowing it was what he needed. “I have better things to do than waste my time on a worthless little nobody like you.”

It was over with a strangled groan in her ear, and she felt a pleasant exhaustion begin to creep up on her as she listened to his breathing even out.

“How is it, really?” he asked once he had calmed down a little. It still surprised her how sincere he could be, in the moments when she least expected it.

“The snoring is terrible, but at least the bed is the size of a small island.”

“I hate to say it, but I think it might be working. The old man seemed to soften up to you at dinner.”

“That’s the easy part,” she sighed. “It doesn’t mean he’s going to let me stay in the room when they want to talk business. You know your dad needs someone there to protect him from himself more than he needs protection from anyone else.”

“When we’re running the company, you won’t have to worry about shit like this.” She heard him yawn, and it occurred to her that this was his idea of pillow talk, a fantasy he was spinning about their future glory that would disappear by morning.

She returned his yawn with her own. “Goodnight, Rome.”

“G’nite.”

When she returned to bed, her sleep was swift and dreamless.


	2. Chapter 2

Gerri had always considered herself a morning person, but waking up to Connor Roy at 5 o’clock in the morning would be enough to make anyone change their mind.

When she first heard his rhythmic grunting from the other side of the bed, she squeezed her eyelids shut tight and mentally cursed. She did not sign up to be a masturbation witness for any Roy man still capable of reaching his dick.

When it still hadn’t stopped after several minutes, she cracked open one eye and saw him sitting upright in bed, the iPad propped up on a pillow in front of him playing video of a steroid enthusiast doing what she recognized against her will as a Crossfit workout.

With every lift, Connor would let out an animalistic grunt, and she finally opened her eyes fully and turned to glare at him. “What are you doing?”

His eyes never left the video, but he did stop grunting long enough to explain. “Contrary to popular belief, physical activity is only a small component of fitness. Most of it is mental, psychological” - he tapped his temple as if to illustrate this - “I started this routine six months ago and I’m in the best shape of my life.”

She let out a quiet groan that was covered up by his next grunt, and made a beeline for the bathroom to shower.

***

“Let me get that for you, sweetheart,” Connor insisted at the breakfast buffet, before filling Gerri’s plate with the absolute worst foods on the table.

She caught Logan’s eye in the corner of the room where he was huddled with Alec, talking shop, and made a _do you want me to join you?_ gesture with her head, but he gave her the slightest shake of his head _no_.

Her eyes wandered the room to find Roman next, whose eyes were, unsurprisingly, already glued to her over the rim of his Bloody Mary. He waggled his eyebrows and suggestively rubbed the seat of the chair next to him, but Connor’s hand was already on her elbow.

“Look, there’s a seat open by the bride and groom!” She shrugged at Roman as Connor led her to the other side of the dining room, and readied herself to be sweetly pawed at for another half hour. When this was all over, she thought, she was going to take Willa out for drinks.

***

As the other guests began to arrive, bringing a flurry of cheerful greetings and heavy luggage and restless children underfoot, the Roy delegation escaped to the safety of the library. Frank would have appreciated the irony, she thought.

“I’ve got Stone eating out of the palm of my hand,” Logan announced when they were all locked in alone together, “All the rest of you have to do is keep from fucking up for the next 24 hours until we’re back on that helicopter.”

“Quite the challenge,” Roman muttered under his breath, and Gerri’s body stiffened, afraid that he would draw Logan’s ire. But his father was in good spirits, and if he heard the comment he let it go.

"The wedding doesn’t begin for another” he checked his watch “four hours, so you have my permission to make yourselves scarce. We’ll meet back here beforehand.”

Everyone turned to leave at his dismissal, but Logan motioned for her to join him. Roman shot her a concerned look on his way out.

When they were alone, Logan admitted “we may have hit a tiny hitch.”

“Okay…” she breathed out slowly.

“Alec loves me, but the oldest son isn’t a fan. Apparently his best friend’s family owns a little telecommunications company that wants to beat us to the deal.”

“Ah.”

“Out of respect for a family friend, he’s going to give us both a chance to make our case tonight at the reception. I’m going to bring you and Connor in on the meeting. The son’s best friend is a model heir, and I’m a little short on those these days. Connor on his own is shit, but if you come with the deal that might make them feel a little better. He just wants to make sure that what’s left of his company is going to be kept in our family.”

She thought of Roman, of the many nights he’d fallen asleep on her couch, piles of reports scattered all around him. It wasn’t always easy to keep him focused - they often had to take a break so he could shoot out some of his restless energy, but he just as often begged her to stay up with him a little longer, until he’d figured out how to twist some new piece of information he’d learned into something he knew how to use. She’d learned a lot about him since the last wedding they attended together, the one where she promised to do everything she could to protect him, and the most important thing she’d learned was how badly he wanted this.

He may not have been a model heir, but he was more than Logan deserved.

Before she could think of a way to bring Roman into the conversation, Logan continued “I need you guys to really sell it, though. I don’t think the son is convinced by your little lovebird act, and if he thinks it’s a trick or the relationship doesn’t have legs, it might sink the whole thing. I know neither of you is very good at that sort of thing - it’s been twenty years since Connor had a girlfriend he didn’t have to pay for, and you…”

He catches himself, but it’s too late.

“And I what?”

“Don’t take it so fucking personally, Gerri. You know all the Waystar wives had a lot of sympathy for Baird, having to be the mother and the father and not getting a whole lot to show for it.”

It was hard for her to swallow, between the lump in her throat and the dryness in her mouth. None of it was new to her, of course, but she’d never had it thrown in her face by someone who was trying to whore her out to cover his own incompetence.

“Are we done?”

“Come on, Gerri.”

“It’s fine. I’ll have a talk with him. We’ll figure something out.”

“Thank you, that’s all I ask. You know you’ve always been my best soldier.”

She tried to keep a steady pace as she left the library, back straight, head held high.

***

Roman was waiting for her when she entered the bedroom, his body compressed so that he could lay in the tight space that was the small window seat, an empty tumbler precariously balanced on his stomach.

“What the hell, Roman? What if Connor comes in here?”

"He won’t. He made a friend while you were in with dad, some other asshole with a hard-on for Napoleon. They’re going to be fucking each other with his petrified dick until the wedding.” He stood up and set down his glass. “What were you two conspiring about?”

The humiliation still stung, and she busied herself by sitting down on the bed, removing her shoes, rubbing her already sore feet, keeping her voice steady. “There’s a complication. A rival company at the wedding. He needs Connor and I to turn up our charm.”

Roman knelt on the floor in front of her, taking her foot in his hands and applying pressure just where she needed it, making her clutch at the bedsheets to keep from making a sound.

"Jesus. If this deal depends on Connor’s charm we might as well call up our ride now, save ourselves the trouble of having to fake tears at this wedding.”

There were a million clever retorts on the tip of her tongue, but what came out instead was “where the hell did you learn how to do that?” “I had a team sports requirement at school. I was shit at anything athletic so I helped with first aid. I worked out a pretty good deal trading foot massages for… other massages.”

Like most other tales of his sexual exploits she wasn’t sure that she believed him, but what he was doing with his hands definitely felt worthy of a handjob or three. She leaned back and relaxed into his touch, and offered him the next best thing.

“I should keep you chained under my desk so that you can do that whenever I want. I finally found something you’re good for, now you can start making up for all of the wasted energy I’ve put into you.”

He moved on from one foot to the other, and in the silence that followed her words she could hear the rasp in his breath as it grew heavier.

“Oh yeah?” He responded, feigning nonchalance. “Anything else I could do for you while I’m down there?”

He looked up at her, eyes wide and dark, like a small skittish animal caught in her gaze, waiting breathlessly for her next move. Logan’s words in the library came back to her, and with them all of the times that Baird had pretended his friends never called her an “ _ice queen_ ” or a " _frigid bitch_ ".

She thought of Roman calling her a “ _stone cold killer bitch_ ”, nearly a year ago, and the way she knew now what that meant in the language they had learned to speak together, the one that no one else would understand.

“Go lock the door.”

He did, and when he returned to her she had slipped her underwear down her legs, the material of her dress bunched around her waist. He returned to his spot knelt in front of her, this time with his thin body bracketed by her knees and his hands slipping beneath her, opening her up to him.

He wasn’t as good with his mouth as he had been with his hands, but he was eager to follow her orders, barked out in a husky voice she hardly recognized as her own, and it had been such a long time that she didn’t last long at all.

He leaned back on his heels with a shining smirk. “Two things I’m good for.”

She reached out to fix his mussed hair, unable to keep the fuckstruck smile out of her voice as she teased, “don’t get ahead of yourself, you still need a lot of practice.”

Whatever he had been about to say in return was interrupted by a light tapping at the door, and Connor’s voice whispering “Gerri, are you in there? Are you decent?”

“Shit!” she hissed at Roman, pulling her hand out of his hair as if it had caught fire. “No, Connor, sorry. I’m just getting ready to take a shower.”

“No problem. I’ll be quick, I just wanted to grab a book to show my new buddy.”

Roman made a jerk off gesture at that. Gerri had tugged her underwear back on, and had her eye on a closet big enough to shove Roman in, but the tiny room smelled undeniably of sex.

She tried to keep the desperation out of her voice. “Actually, Connor, I’m completely naked right now, so I’m going to need you to come back in an hour.”

After an awkward silence, he said, “Yeah. Sure. I’ll just… I’ll be back in an hour and a half. Take your time.” And then they could hear his footsteps going across the hallway and down the stairs.

“I wonder how his mental image compares to the real thing,” Roman said slyly, slipping his hands back under her dress, but Gerri pushed him away gently.

“Not now, Roman. That was too close. We never should have done that in here.”

“It’s not like you two are really a thing. We could have just explained…”

“No,” she said, forcefully this time. “We won’t be explaining anything, to anyone, ever. Are you delusional?”

“Fuck you.” There was no playfulness in his voice, just anger, the edges unraveling into hurt. “So what? I never get to be anything but your dirty little secret?”

“Please, Roman. You know you’ll get bored of me as soon as the thrill of the taboo wears off. I’m trying to help you, trying to fix up this company for you and give you a good chance at the top job, but if you’re going to ruin all of my efforts by acting like a horny teenager who doesn’t know when to keep his mouth shut, then I don’t know why I’m bothering.”

Later, she’ll obsess over those words, the way they mirror the ones she’s said to him countless times, empty of any bite, intended only for his pleasure. How easy it is to fold them over on themselves, for their meaning to go from pain to pleasure then back to pain again.

He stood quickly, a loud crack in one of his knees betraying his real age. “No, I get it. I’ll get out of the way, let you and dad clean Connor up, make him a nice little puppet for you.”

“Rome… wait…”

But he slipped out the door before she could find the words.


	3. Chapter 3

Gerri compulsively smoothed the skirt of her dress as she waited for the wedding ceremony to begin. Silky and curve hugging, with a V-neck that was within a hair’s breadth of being unprofessional and a light blue color that matched her eyes, she knew it was Roman’s favorite, could remember every graphic image he’d placed in her head of wrinkling and tearing and staining it.

When she’d packed it, she had thought of it as an apology, a way to make it up to him for having to attend the wedding on Connor’s arm. Now, after the fight they’d had, she worried he’d think of it as a cruelty, another way to rub in his face the parts of herself that she wouldn’t share with him, but there hadn’t been another dress suitable for the occasion.

She hadn’t seen him since the fight. He’d skipped out on the pre-wedding family meeting, and was still a no-show five minutes before the ceremony.

Her body was restless, aching to jump up from her seat and go look for him, but Connor wrapped an arm around her shoulder, grounding her, reminding her of how much worse Logan’s wrath would be for everyone - Roman included - if she failed to keep up her act.

“We’re in the limelight now,” Connor whispered in her ear, and she had to resist the urge to jerk away from the feeling of his moist breath on her skin. “It’s time to get the show on the road. Just remember your lines - don’t chew the scenery, but be prepared to think on your feet.”

She wanted to break his leg.

With a minute to spare, she saw Roman out of the corner of her eye, creeping up the side aisle. She saw him run his eyes down the Roys’ designated row of seats, saw the slight furrow of his brow as he noticed the same thing that she had - that the only chair left was the aisle seat right next to her.

She saw him shift his weight, preparing to creep back, either to find a chair further back or to flee the room entirely, and then heard Logan hiss, “Romulus, take your seat!”

Eyes cast down at his feet, Roman slid into the seat next to her, balanced carefully on one side, so that their bodies couldn’t brush against each other by mistake.

Just in time, the string quartet started up, a welcome distraction. She watched the groom enter with his parents, followed by the wedding party in their tasteful navy ties and gowns, and then the little flower girl and ring bearer, holding hands and giggling nervously. And then, the bride and her father, Elise Stone radiating joy and happiness, and Alec beaming with pride.

Her stomach clenched with guilt, as it always did at this part of the ceremony. Five years ago, a trip to Paris to help Logan finalize a deal for the first European Brightstar Adventure Park had run longer than expected, and she’d missed the wedding of her first daughter. With no parent to give her away, Alice’s future mother-in-law had stepped in, and when Gerri called the next to apologize, Alice wouldn’t let her. Her insistence that “it’s alright, of course I understood” made it clear that she’d planned for this, that she’d never really expected Gerri to be there in the first place.

It was better to be alone, Gerri thought - not for the first time, not even for the hundredth time. No husband, no children, no needy human lapdog. She had made the first two mistakes when she was too young to know better, had committed herself to the expectations of time and energy and affection that she hadn’t been able to fulfill, and had taken a strange comfort when less and less was expected of her over time, when she could feel like she belonged solely to herself again.

It wasn’t too late to keep herself from making the same mistake one more time. She could keep Roman at arm’s length, help him stand on his own two feet instead of allowing him to kneel at hers, could promise him only the time and energy and professional guidance that she knew she could give without fail.

It had only been an illusion, hadn’t it? That feeling she had begun to have that she may have finally found someone who wanted from her the kind of affection she could be capable of giving, wicked and irregular and on her own terms? That feeling she had begun to have that the kind of affection she could be capable of giving might be the kind he could be able to accept in return? That feeling that there was someone out there whose fucked up jagged edges roughly matched up with her own, making her want to be something more than just the most efficient cog in the Waystar Royco machine, making her want to be someone who took risks and laughed easily, who desired and was desired.

She had tuned out the sound of the officiant droning on, but her ears had perked up at the sound of a familiar rustling beside her - Roman’s leg bouncing up and down, his body forever restless without a steady hand to still it. Hers reached out automatically, stopped itself just inches from his thigh, and then pulled back slightly, settling in the place where their chairs were pushed together, her knuckles pressing against his hip.

He stilled immediately. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him, refocusing instead on the bride and groom’s vows. She watched them exchange rings, watched them kiss, watched the room full of guests leap to their feet with cheers of joy, and then turned finally to watch Roman jump up from his chair and flee the room.

***

It wasn’t until the third course at dinner - half-listening to Connor spin a grand tale to their table mates about their first date enjoying mimosas at sunrise in a hot air balloon, contributing an absentminded “it was lovely” and “he’s so wonderful” where she guessed it might be appropriate - that she finally caught sight of Roman.

He was standing by the bar, holding court with no less than five bridesmaids and a few equally beautiful, equally interested men, everyone drunk and laughing and hanging onto his every word. She could tell that he was already pretty buzzed himself, had learned to recognize the precarious way he held his glass by the rim and the insolent slouch of his shoulders that indicated his disinterest in being seen as respectable.

She told herself it wasn’t jealousy but concern that made her stand, begging the table’s forgiveness and excusing herself to find a restroom.

“Don’t be long, sweetheart,” Connor said, syrupy sweet, but with an edge to it that begged her to remember their upcoming meeting with Alec Stone and their competitors.

“I won’t,” she assured him. When she had slipped from the reception hall and out into the cool night air, she dug her cell phone out of her purse and texted Roman “Front Lawn URGENT”.

***

The front lawn of the Stone estate was beautiful at moonlight, the storm clouds mostly parted now to reveal the endless expanse of bright starry sky, a sight she never realized she missed until she left the city.

It had been ten minutes since she’d sent the text, and she had almost given up on Roman when a sarcastic voice behind her interrupted her stargazing.

“Jesus, you look like a ghost out here, like one of those creepy old lady ghosts that got set on fire by villagers for eating their children and haunt abandoned orphanages hungry for the taste of flesh.”

She raised her eyebrows at him. “I don’t think I’m familiar with that movie.”

He shrugged. “Probably not your thing. I know the only thing that gets your heart racing is rubbing one out to quarterly financial reports.” The last thing that had made her heart race was his mouth on her, but she didn’t correct him.

“The only horror movie on my mind is the one we’re all going to be stuck in if you ruin this deal for your dad. I know you don’t want to be here right now, but you need to be on your best behavior. You need to think of the bigger picture.”

“Oh, I’m having the time of my life! And it’s only going to get better from here.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I have been thinking of the bigger picture. Kendall is out. Only two other siblings in line for the throne now, and your name on the piece of paper. If someone were to, say, get the right bridesmaid into a private little corner, nibble on her ear and tell her a fun little story about my brother and his fake girlfriend, by the end of the night the deal could be dead, and it would just be Shiv and I left in the game.”

“What are you trying to prove, Roman?”

He stepped very close to her, his eyes black in the darkness. “Isn’t this what you said you wanted? Dad will give you a nice golden parachute to send you off into retirement, and you won’t have to worry about rebuilding the company or teaching me how to be a real boy. Nothing but tropical islands and fruity drinks and a never-ending line of cabana boys with big dicks who will never ask for more than a tip.”

He was usually better at covering his hurt with cruelty, of not letting the real wound bleed through. It was further proof of how deeply she’d cut him, and she wished she could shove her earlier words back into her mouth until she choked on them.

“That isn’t what I want, Roman. It isn’t what I want at all.”

“Then what do you want?”

“I want us to be a team.” It seemed so simple when she said it out loud, so obvious. Two jagged pieces fitting together to make something wholly unique. “I hate this trip too, you know. Do you think I don’t imagine how much better this whole charade would be with you? Improvising ridiculous romantic backstories, plotting the best way to use my knowledge and your charm to win over the old man. Making fun of his incredibly dull children in bed at night.”

He snorted, contorting his face to keep from laughing.

She reached up and fussed with his tie, adjusting it unnecessarily. “Being kept awake all night by something a lot more fun than your brother’s snoring.”

His face finally relaxed into the smug smirk she’d come to adore, against her better judgement.

“But that’s not how the game can be played this time, Rome. And every once in a while, when things don’t go your way, you need to learn to be patient,” her hand slid down from his tie, ghosting over the front of his pants, “Instead of taking your balls and going home.”

“Yes, coach.”

“No, not your coach, not anymore. Your partner.” She tucked a loose strand of his hair back into place. “I have shit I need to work on too. I should have included you more in this operation, trusted you to help instead of pushing you away. I’m so used to doing things on my own, to only having myself to rely on, that it was easy to imagine you screwing me over before I’d even given you a chance to prove me wrong.”

“I’m going to fuck things up,” he said, confidently. “Probably a thousand things. But I would never intentionally screw you over. All of that shit I said, about fucking things up for you and Connor, that was all bullshit.”

“I know.” Her phone chirped in her other hand. “Shit, it’s Connor. I have to head back. They’re going to want to meet soon.”

They walked back up to the reception hall, pausing just outside the door.

“Good luck,” Roman said, holding the door open for her.

“I’ll come by your room later tonight,” she promised, voice husky and low, “to give you a full debriefing.”

“I’ll have my little pencil at the ready.”

Gerri laughed, loud and open and carefree, and walked through the door just in time to be hit in the face with the bride’s bouquet.


	4. Chapter 4

It took Gerri a moment to register what had happened, what she was holding in her hands, what had just seconds earlier hit her square in the face.

_Shit. The bride's bouquet._ She snuck a glance at Roman to her left, and was annoyed to see his obvious amusement at her public humiliation.

There was polite applause from the bride and a few of the wedding guests, and she lifted the bouquet up with a sheepish smile, willing the attention to be over soon. She scanned the room to see if anyone else from their party had witnessed her embarrassment, and found Logan, Connor, and Marcia huddled together, arguing furiously. Marcia threw her hands in the air before reluctantly handing something off to Connor, and when Logan pointed insistently in Gerri's direction, she put the pieces together.

_No. No, no, no._ They wouldn't put her through that. But two decades with Waystar Royco should have taught her not to underestimate the lengths a desperate Logan Roy would go to.

She tried to covertly shoo Connor away as he came closer, but it was too late. The eldest Roy son dropped to one knee in front of her, one of Marcia's rings outstretched towards her.

"I was going to do this later tonight, sweetheart," he said, still breathless from his rush across the reception hall, "But I think this was a sign. Gerri, my love, will you make me the luckiest man on Earth and marry me?"

The polite attention from a few scattered wedding guests became the breathless anticipation of an eager crowd, and it seemed there would be no other way to do this than Logan's way.

"I... yes," she stuttered, "yes, I'll marry you."

Connor stood and reached for her hand to put the ring on her finger, but it was obvious immediately that it was much too small. Frustrated with his awkward fumbling and ready for this scene in their charade to be over already, she reached for his face and pressed her lips to his. It was a cold, hard-mouthed kiss, but she held on for a long moment in the hopes that it would give the illusion of passion, or at the very least, make their audience uncomfortable enough to look away.

It seemed to work, the reception quickly returning to it's earlier hum of chatter, and when she broke away she was angry enough to breath fire.

"What the hell, Connor!"

"Dad said the opportunity was too good to go to waste. You did great, by the way."

She didn't care about his review of her performance - there was only one Roy son whose opinion she cared about at that moment. She looked around the reception hall for Roman, but he was no where to be found.

***

When they returned to their table, Logan was there waiting for them, along with a beaming Alec Stone.

"Congratulations!" Alec shook Connor's hand and pressed a kiss to each of Gerri's cheeks. "I'm so glad to see my family's happy day be such a happy day for yours as well."

"We're honored to be able to share it with you," Logan said. "Should we get started?"

Alec waved him off. "I've spoken to the other party, and I told them that I've made up my mind. Our sons may be old friends, but the synchronicity I feel between your family and mine has convinced me. I've gone with my gut all of my life, and it's served me well so far. I'll inform the board on Monday of my intentions, and we should be able to get the ball rolling as soon as possible."

Logan clapped him on the shoulder. "I'm so happy to hear that. I assure you that your family's legacy will be safe with ours. Connor and Gerri are going to personally see to that."

"Excellent. I have a father-daughter dance coming up that I can't miss, so I'm afraid I'll have to leave you to it. No work tonight, though," he said pointedly to Gerri and Connor. "You two should have a dance yourselves, celebrate your engagement!"

When he was gone, Logan gestured to the dance floor. "You heard the man."

Gerri was used to being yanked around by Logan Roy professionally, but being used as his personal Barbie doll was a new level of humiliation. "None of this was part of the plan, Logan. This deal could stretch out for a year... are you suggesting that we fake an engagement the whole time?"

Logan glared at her. "I got a call from Hugo an hour ago. He's gotten word that a documentary about our cruise line is set to premiere at a film festival next weekend. For now this mess has been mostly confined to pansy liberal assholes in Washington looking to throw a little power around, but once those pricks in Hollywood stick their dicks in this we're irreversibly fucked unless we find a new prize pig to keep our shareholders calm. So yes, you two are going to play the perfect lovebirds and keep Alec charmed until his whole operation is ours."

"Logan, I'm begging you to reconsider this. Talk to Karolina, or Hugo, see how they think the optics will play. This is my reputation we're talking about."

He stepped close to her, large and imposing. "You can leave if you want, Gerri. That's always been an option. We've certainly given you enough to fall back on."

"Logan, I'm not-"

"But this company will be in ruins, and that will be as much a part of your reputation as some phony engagement."

She thought of Roman, of what he would have left to fall back on if the company was burned to the ground. She believed in him, wanted to give him his best chance to prove himself, and she knew that best chance was with a Waystar Royco that was still standing.

She gritted her teeth, took Connor's outstretched hand, and followed him onto the dance floor.

***

"Hey buddy." Three songs in, Connor and Gerri were interrupted by the sound of Roman's voice from just over Gerri's shoulder. "There's some old guy over by the bar who's been nagging me to get you to talk to him about your water rights."

"Really?" Conner asked, overjoyed, and Gerri had to resist the urge to roll her eyes.

"Yeah man, he's an old guy, probably like 4'8" at the tallest, red hair, top hat, monocle, you can't miss him. Looks like a leprechaun fucked the monopoly man. He kept going on about how we need someone willing to stand up to the politicians and fight for landowners' rights, I told him you were the man."

"You don't mind, do you, Gerri?" He looked like a little kid begging to unwrap his birthday present. "There are so few people at these kinds of things who really appreciate the riches of the land."

Roman pressed a hand to Gerri's back and flashed her his most charming smile. "I'd be more than happy to step in."

Connor was gone before the words had even left his mouth.

Gerri raised an eyebrow at her new dance partner. "What happens when he can't find him?"

Roman shrugged. "That's a problem for future me. Present me wants to dance."

It wasn't exactly a winning strategy, but as he took her hand in his and pulled her closer, she thought it might not be the best time to correct him.

He wasn't a very good dancer - he lacked any sense of rhythm, and he nearly stepped on her toes on several occasions, but the feeling of him holding her body close to his felt right in a way that made the awkwardness worth it. She was used to dancing with taller men, men who led her around the dance floor with authority, men who were always trying to test how far their hands could slip in polite society. With her heels, she and Roman were face to face, his swaying motion artless but comfortable, his hand stroking absently up and down her back, driven by his constant restless energy.

"I guess I should congratulate you," he said after a moment, "the next time we dance at a wedding, you'll be the one wearing a marshmallow dress and I'll be shitfaced and giving a speech about how you're my new favorite sister."

"I wouldn't waste your time writing it, I'd rather drown myself in a barrel of slow burning acid than marry Conner."

"Did you guys figure out how you're getting out of it? The bride's friends with a couple of gossip bloggers, they're probably locked in a bathroom stall right now banging out a few hundred words about it."

"Not yet. We just have to string the engagement along for a couple of months, until we've dotted all the i's and crossed all the t's on this deal."

"So it worked then? All this horrible bullshit was worth it?"

"I think it was probably worse for me then it was for you, Roman. But yes, Alec let us know that he's no longer entertaining the other offer. We can get to work on the deal as soon as we get back home, and then we're that much closer to this whole thing being over." 

"Just promise me you'll let him down gently when the time comes," he teased. Then, "I know what a heart breaker you can be." The last bit had a thread of real hurt in it, the bruises of her earlier cruelty clearly still sore.

"I don't think it will be as dramatic as all that. I'm sure we'll spin it as a - what did those celebrities call it? A conscious uncoupling?"

Roman snorted. "Yeah, I tried that line on Tabs. She threw a shoe at my head."

"In her defense, you never had much success with conscious coupling either."

He pulled her a little closer to him as one song gave way to another, this one even slower. "And what are your thoughts on that?" he asked her.

"What? Conscious coupling? In general or with you?"

He made a dismissive sound, as if it were all the same to him, but she knew him well enough to know that was an act.

She pulled back a little, so that she could read his face. "You think you're up for it?"

He shrugged, a little self consciously. "Fuck, I don't know," he admitted, "but I'm game to try if you are."

Weddings were cliche and overdressed and stuffed with pretty sentiments that lost their shine much faster than the wedding bands, but at their core they were supposed to be a celebration of human connection, and she found that that night, what she wanted more than anything was to connect with Roman.

"Tonight?"

His face was surprised, then delighted, then smug. "I knew it. You just can't wait to get your hands on me."

"No, I just need a break from your brother's snoring."

"You really know how to make a man feel special, don't you. Shit!"

"What?"

"He's back already."

"Hey Rome," Connor called out as he approached them. "I couldn't find the guy. Dad said he hasn't seen him and sent me back here."

"Looks like I'm being kicked off of your dance card," Roman said to Gerri, but before relinquishing his hold on her, he leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. "I'm heading back to my room," he whispered in her ear, "come up whenever you can."

***

Later that night, after the demographics of the party had begun to shift from a mix of ages to a younger, drunker, wilder set, Gerri knocked on Roman's door, the usual funeral march tune that he favored for his own late night visits. He opened it almost immediately, as if he'd been standing there waiting for her.

He ushered her in with a cheeky grin, and she saw two glasses and a bottle of scotch laid out on the dresser. The label was much older than the one that had been on offer at the bar downstairs, and she had a sneaking suspicion that Roman had liberated it from Alec Stone's own collection.

"Making yourself at home I see."

"Do you want some?" When she nodded, he began to pour some out for each of them. "Well, what's his is about to be ours, isn't it? We're all about to be one big happy corporate family?" He handed her a glass and took the other for himself.

"Still, I'd maybe wait until the ink is dry before you start helping yourself to the family jewels."

"Are you worried?"

She was always worried - it was her job to try to imagine every obstacle in the distance and come up with three battle plans for each of them. Just for tonight, though, she wanted to be Gerri the woman, not Gerri the clever filing cabinet. The Roys owed her that, after everything they'd put her through that weekend.

"If you're just going to talk shop, I might as well go spend my engagement night with your brother. Maybe Willa's convinced him of the merits of method acting."

"You wouldn't."

"No," she admitted, her voice softening. "No, I wouldn't." She took a long sip of her drink, relishing the burn of liquid courage, and then set down her glass, reaching out a hand to brush Roman's cheek with her palm. He didn't flinch away, instead leaning into her touch, rubbing his face against her like a cat. His eyes closed with a small contented hum, and she felt her own exhaustion begin to set in, and wondered for a moment if it would be enough that night just to lay down next to him and fall asleep, leaving any other expectations to another day.

But then his eyes opened again, dark and laser focused on hers, his lips parted and breathing shallow, and she was energized again by that electric current that passed between them when they were alone together. It was the thrill of the unknown, the danger made somehow safer by the understanding they shared in those private moments, when no one else was around, that they were free to be exactly who they were, the real hidden selves that they saw in each other and respected when no one else would.

Her left hand slid up into his hair and was quickly joined by her right, and she tugged gently on the strands, pulling him closer until she could feel his breath warm on her face. His hands settled on her waist with an uncharacteristic confidence, and it was all the encouragement she needed.

She brushed her lips against his gently at first, testing, and when he didn't pull away she kissed him properly, a soft moan escaping her as she felt him respond. He was as mediocre at kissing as he had been on the dance floor and in between her thighs - too hard, too wet, too overeager, like a puppy about to piss itself with excitement - but if it was one thing he was good at it was taking direction, yielding to the way she pushed and pulled at him until he was right where she wanted him, paying careful attention to the rhythm she set. 

"Tell me if you need to stop," she told him, once they had parted for air.

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, Mother."

"I'm serious, Roman. Don't push yourself to do something you aren't comfortable with just because you think it'll make me happy. Nothing is worth you resenting me later."

He rested his forehead against hers. "Alright. If you insist. Safe word is Karl."

She shoved hard on his chest, and they both laughed. "Asshole."

"Bitch."

She pushed two fingers between his parted lips, and felt her whole body buzz with pleasure as he sucked on them with exaggerated lasciviousness. "I think tonight you're the bitch."

He let her fingers slip out of his mouth with a wet 'pop'. "Yes Ma'am."

It was funny the way his posture changed, the slouch of his shoulders morphing from the careless self-assured stance of a spoiled prince to something deferential, somehow making himself smaller in her presence without moving an inch.

It would have been invisible to anyone else, but she knew what it meant - the beginning of their little game.

"Take off your clothes and lie down on your back." She tried to sound firm, in control, as if she had made a plan for all of this and was fully prepared to bend him to her will, but she was trembling, nerves and excitement mixing together until they overflowed, spilling out into her voice.

He didn't seem to notice, his hands moving to the buttons of his shirt as if guided by an invisible force beyond his control. He made quick work of them - so different than that time in Hungary, the first time he made her heart race. Then, the familiar sound of his belt unbuckling, pants unzipping, material being pushed down his hips, flooding her with memories of those early days, when she could only imagine his actions on the other side of the phone, on the other side of the door. It was all in front of her now in three dimensions, although her mind would have never supplied the image of him nearly tripping as he ungracefully kicked his pants and briefs off one leg.

"Jesus Roman, you're a fucking mess. Like a dog trying to walk on its hind legs."

His eyes never left hers as his hands slid their familiar path over his cock, tongue darting out to lick his lips.

She snapped her fingers, and he dropped his hand, putting both of them behind his back.

"What did I tell you, Roman? If you can't follow directions, I'll have to tie you up and leave you overnight until you've learned your lesson."

A keening whine slipped out of him.

"Now, Roman."

He clambered up onto the bed and flopped on his back. "Do I get a treat for being a good boy?"

She ignored him, reaching under the skirt of her dress to slide down her stockings, laying them with excruciating care over the side of a chair.

"We'll both be eligible for the senior citizen special by the time you get over here."

Just for that, she spent even more time pulling down her panties, and she folded them for the first and last time in her life, just to drag out his torture. She had pictured this a dozen times, late nights after their special conference calls with her fingers buried inside of her, but she had always skipped to the part where he was begging and moaning, his voice in her head an echo of their earlier conversation. The practical part - the negotiations over where and how, the exposure of skin and the placement of bodies and the depth and speed and angle - had not come up in her fantasies, and she had to hope now that she knew him as well as she thought.

She left the dress on - she reasoned to herself that it because she knew how much he loved it, and pushed the reality of her self conscious doubts away.

"Do you really think you've been a good boy, Roman?" She scoffed. "You've been a brat. You deserve a muzzle and a spanking." She climbed onto the bed and hovered over him with one knee on either side of his slender hips, arms on either side of his head, covered breasts pressed into his chest, and whispered into his ear.

"But then you'd like that too much, wouldn't you. A filthy animal like you will never learn how to behave unless you're made to suffer the way you deserve."

He reached beneath her dress, hands grasping her hips, and pulled her down until she was grinding against him. The sudden assertiveness caught her by surprise, and she bit her lips to contain a gasp of pleasure.

He hadn't earned that yet.

"Hands behind your head."

He complied quickly. "Good boy," she allowed him, watching the way the pleasure of it registered with a sharp intake of breath, and she reached between their bodies to take hold of him. It was the first time she had ever touched him like that, and judging by the way his body arched up into her touch, the contact hadn't put him off.

"Beg," she told him, wanting verbal confirmation that this was really what he wanted.

"Please," he rasped, "please, just fuck me."

She slid down onto him slowly, nails digging into his shoulder. His hands slid back beneath her dress to grasp her hips, palms clammy against her skin, fingers pressed down hard enough that she thought she might bruise.

"You had better not disappoint me," she warned, and then she was moving against him. Words fell from her lips without thought, spit out on every sharp thrust, hissed out with every twisting grind, her voice becoming more and more guttural as their pace quickened.

"...it's like fucking a worm, Roman, you're absolutely repulsive... you're like a cockroach on its back, just waiting for me to crush you..."

"Gerri..." he moaned in warning, and she took one sweaty hand off of her hip and directed it to her clit. His fingers fumbled, never quite hitting the right rhythm, but she was close enough not to care, the extra pressure all she needed.

"Good," she moaned as she trembled around him, "good, good, so good, Rome..."

It was enough to finish him off, and she didn't realize until she came back to herself that she was still murmuring "good, good," under her breath, her voice raspy and unfamiliar to her.

Roman's eyes were wet with unshed tears, and for a moment she was terrified that she had missed some sign, that she had pushed him too far, that he would push her off of him and out of the door.

"Shit," he muttered, rubbing at his eyes with a rueful laugh. "Sorry."

"Are you- was that-"

But he was looking up at her with a soft, unguarded awe that made her heart skip a beat. "It was great. You were great. It's just... never been that easy. You're like some kind of broken dick whisperer."

She laughed, moving off of him and curling up next to him, close to his side but far enough to give him space. After a moment of comfortable silence, he reached out for one of her hands and held it against his chest, absently rubbing her fingers.

"I have to go soon," she said regretfully. "My new fiance is going to notice I'm missing."

Roman snorted. "What is he going to do, send a search party for you?"

"I wouldn't be surprised if your dad has us all micro-chipped."

"Stay for a few hours? I'll set an alarm on my phone, you'll be back before he wakes up and no one will suspect a thing."

Her body was still humming with pleasure, melting her resolve. "Okay, three hours, and then I have to go. You'll set the alarm while I clean up a little?"

"I'll set two alarms, just to be safe," he assured her as she made her way to the bathroom.

***

She would never be sure if they had slept through the alarms, or if he had never set them in the first place, but she woke to see the sun beaming through his bedroom window, casting rays of light over his pale back where he was sprawled half on top of her.

"Shit! Shit, shit, shit, shit!"

"What's the matter?" He murmured into her left breast, his arm a dead weight around her waist. She squirmed beneath him until he got the hint, rolling onto his back and setting her free.

"It's morning. I was supposed to be back in my room hours ago. Everyone is probably up already."

She rushed over to the chair to retrieve her underwear, tugging her stockings up much too hastily and snagging the fabric. Her dress was hopelessly wrinkled and her hair was a mess, and a quick look in the mirror confirmed that her hasty attempt to remove as much makeup as possible with soap and water the night before hadn't succeeded, leaving dark splotches under each eye.

She hadn't done a walk of shame since college, and even then she'd had the foresight to carry cold cream and a spare pair of panties with her whenever she went out for the night.

"I look like I was involved in a gangbang with some werewolves out in the woods."

"Fuck," he sighed, sitting up and tugging at her dress until she was standing over him. "You can't put an image like that in my head and then run out on me."

"You'll have to entertain yourself this morning." She smoothed down a piece of hair that was standing straight up on his head, the gel he hadn't had time to wash out making the whole thing look like a rat's nest, and then leaned down to give him a soft lingering kiss. "I'll make it up to you when we get back home."

He wrapped his arms tightly around her. "Can I get that in writing, Ms. Kellman?"

She slapped at his hands. "Fuck off."

He let her go, and she slipped from his room as quickly and quietly as possible.


End file.
